Perfection
by RHHP Freak
Summary: He would never deserve her and he knew it. He knew there were people in the world better suited for her. But he wanted her. Ten/Rose.


**Disclaimer: **Am I rolling in money? No, I'm not. That means I still don't own Doctor Who. Dammit...

**Perfection  
**He was the Last of the Time Lords. The man, who travelled through the Universe, saving planets, trying to give everyone a happy ending. He was the Oncoming Storm. The Lonely God. But when he was around her, all those titles seemed to vanish and he was just the Doctor, nothing more than a man desperately in love.

It was all so very human. He had always loved the human race. It was their flaws, their will to live and the way they loved each other so unconditionally, which made them his favourites. Back home, he had been mocked for this, been teased mercilessly for his liking for them.

But he loved them, despite the fact that to them he was an alien. A threat to some, nothing more than a fairy tale to most. He had found friends there, people he would always consider family. And he had found love.

He was 900 years old, she was 20. He was a time Lord, she was human. He was so very broken, she was so wonderfully complete. He would never deserve her and he knew it. He knew there were people in the world better suited for her. People, who had not fought in wars or seen their entire species burn, because of their actions. People, who could love her completely, without reservations.

But he wanted her.

He had tried to deny it, had tried to bury those feelings deep in his mind and hearts. But as she smiled at him, her short, red dress practically mocking him for choosing to do that, he could feel his resolve crumble. She was beautiful, she was brave and kind, the most compassionate woman in the world. And she was _his_.

The feeling of possessiveness surprised him. He had felt it to a certain degree before, with Mickey, Jack and Adam hanging around in his TARDIS, but never like this. He felt unnerved as his eyes panned from her black high heels to the very, very short dress to the blonde hair, curled slightly. If he did not have his superior self-control, he would probably have kissed her already, but he held back, unsure how to proceed.

"Doctor, are you all right?" she asked and it was the sound of her voice, which broke him. Slowly, he walked towards her, gently stroking her cheek as he stood in front her. Her eyes widened, possibly in shock, but there was something in her eyes, something, which seemed to reflect what he was feeling in that exact moment.

It was love. It was want.

And it was, what made him lean down and gently press his lips to hers.

He had kissed women before. He had been in love before, but this was different. All those years of showing a minimum of these feelings towards her, all those years of reminding himself of how wrong doing this would be, seemed to fade away. There was only here and Rose's lips against his, her soft moan of approval as he put his hands on her waist and pulled her closer. Her hands grabbed the lapels of his jacket, making it almost impossible to pull away.

Not that he wanted to. This was surely as close to the humans' idea of Heaven as he would ever come. This was the very definition of perfection. Except for the fact that humans do not have respiratory bypass and need to breathe. Rose pulled away, breathing heavily, but she did not let go of his jacket.

"Rose, oh Rose..." He said, seemingly lost for words for once. She looked up at him, her eyes sparkling with happiness."Would you be offended, if I said that you seem to me to be in every way the visible personification of absolute perfection?"

She grinned at him. "You think flattery will get you anywhere, don't you?" She leaned forward to whisper in his ear. "But it will only get you to my bedroom."

He stared at her, a familiar, wide smile spreading across his face. "Allons-y, Rose."

He was the Doctor. She was Rose Tyler.

And they belonged together.

The End

**A/N: **Thank you so much for reading. The quote "_I shall not offend you if I state quite frankly and openly that you seem to me to be in every way the visible personification of absolute perfection_" is from the brilliant play _The Importance of Being Earnest_ by Oscar Wilde.


End file.
